


Slumber Party Syndrome

by Relevant_Peach



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relevant_Peach/pseuds/Relevant_Peach
Summary: Slumber Party Syndrome:/sləmbər ˈpärdē sinˌdrōm/noun: NORTH AMERICANSlang terminology to describe the tendency of one bed partner who won't stop giggling and talking, long past bedtime.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	Slumber Party Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> This little slice of life kept distracting me from the many works in progress that I should be working on. Figured I'd write it and post it, so that my mind could get back to the real commitments I've made.
> 
> ***

Draco’s yawn nearly split apart his head. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m knackered. I’m going to bed.”

“Night,” Harry muttered absently, his eyes not moving from the stack of parchment in front of him.

Draco kissed him on the top of his head, and disappeared upstairs. After a few minutes, though, the words danced and blurred on the parchment, and Harry found himself yawning as well. Resolving to get up extra-early to review the report he’d promised to discuss with Robards in the morning, he extinguished the lamps with a wave of his hand, and climbed the stairs.

Draco was just putting his book onto the nightstand when Harry entered the bedroom. He sighed huffily. “Oh no, Harry, you always do this!”

“It’s true, Draco,” Harry said cheerfully, “I do sleep in a bed nearly every single night, just like a real human.”

“Don’t be a prat. You always go to bed at the same time as I do, and then keep me awake with your chattering!”

“I don’t!” Harry said, a little stung.

“No?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “So you think that you can kiss me goodnight and then fall asleep silently?”

“Of course I can, Draco, honestly. I’m not a child.”

“Of course you’re not,” Draco said, his voice dripping with irony.

“Whatever. Goodnight, Draco,” Harry said, kissing Draco a little perfunctorily, and then rolling over so that he faced the wall.

“Goodnight, Harry. Nox.”

Draco’s voice was stilted, in that formal tone he adopted when he felt that he was in the right. Harry pictured the look on his face as they lay quietly in the dark. Despite the fact that he’d mellowed since the war had ended, Draco was still awfully proper, and insisted on adherence to manners, and tradition, and order. Harry thought of the angled lines of his face, and how he adopted a look that was eerily similar to his Mother’s, any time Harry took things a little too casually.

Like that morning, when Harry had been late for work, and had stolen a piece of perfectly buttered toast from Draco’s hand as he raced through the kitchen looking for his wand. Draco had been outraged, and his offended gasp had made Harry smile all the way to the office. Harry had heard about it when he’d brought Draco a conciliatory sandwich at lunchtime. “It’s about _respect_ , Harry,” he’d sniffed.

Something about the tilt of his pointy little face had filled Harry with such a wash of affection that he’d leapt across the room, and kissed Draco senseless. He was so prickly! Remembering it again, it charmed Harry so thoroughly, that he was nearly overwhelmed by love. A glorious burst of happiness bubbled through Harry, and he wanted to laugh with how blissful he felt. But he couldn’t laugh, he had to stay silent, or Draco would insist that he was right, and Harry didn’t know how to go to bed like a proper Wizard. 

Harry was suddenly reminded of a time, long ago when Mrs. Figg had been busy, and the Dursley’s couldn’t find anyone to watch Harry while they went to church, so he’d been dragged along, and warned of certain death if he didn’t behave. It had all gone fine until he’d sneezed. The way that Vernon and Petunia had whipped their heads around in unison and glared at him had struck him as so unexpectedly funny, that, despite the impending punishment, he’d gotten a fit of the giggles. As their expressions grew increasingly furious, he’d giggled harder, until tears were rolling down his face, and he was frantically biting the inside of his cheek to try to stop. The beating and subsequent week-long exile into his cupboard had been a trial, but since then, Harry had always had a hard time suppressing giggles when in tense situations. 

Now though, he had pride at stake, and picturing Draco’s outraged face wasn’t making things any easier. Despite his efforts to subdue his mirth, the giggles bubbled up inside him, and he was unable to suppress a little snort, which fed his panic and before he knew it, he was shaking with silent laughter. The absurdity of the situation made everything funnier. Tears rolled onto the pillow, and he gasped, and shook, and giggled until suddenly Draco snapped, “Oh for fuck’s sake, what’s so funny? Lumos.”

Harry still couldn’t speak, the tension of being unable to suppress his laughter, and Draco’s irritated, tired expression as he rolled Harry over to face him making everything worse. He laughed and laughed, and Draco’s annoyance quickly turned into…hurt. “Fine. Whatever,” he said, and rolled so that his back was now facing Harry.

Harry’s laughter quickly subsided as he realized that he’d unintentionally insulted Draco. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, still a little breathless. “Draco?”

“Leave me alone, Potter.” Harry winced. Draco almost never called him Potter anymore. Only when he was truly vulnerable did he fall back into the patterns of their youth.

“Dray?” Draco’s back may as well have been a mountain range, so stiff and unmoving was it. Harry jumped out of bed, and went around to Draco’s side, crouching at the edge of the bed so that their faces were close. “Baby? I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise. I just was thinking about how much I love you, and then I was trying to stay quiet so that I didn’t prove you right about how stupid I am at bedtime, and the tension kind of made me giggly, and then I couldn’t stop it.”

Draco’s face softened a little. “You were thinking about how much you loved me?” His voice still contained a hint of fragility. Harry hadn’t told Draco that he loved him before. He wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for, actually, he knew he did, but Draco sometimes got so uncomfortable around _feelings_ , that Harry had kept the revelation to himself.

“Yeah. I’ve never loved someone before, not like this, and it’s just such an amazing thing, that sometimes I can’t contain how happy you make me.” Harry felt a bit stupid. His terrible relatives had done such a thorough job of emotionally stunting him, that sometimes his reactions were incomprehensible to people who hadn’t spent their childhood in a cupboard.

“Really?” The tiny hint of emotion in Draco’s voice brought tears to Harry’s eyes.

“Of course. I’m not very good at this stuff, you know, but even I know what love feels like.” Harry’s face loomed closer to Draco’s, and he kissed him gently. If Draco had any doubts about what Harry was saying, the gentleness of his lips chased them away. “I’m sorry, I’ll let you get some sleep now.”

He crawled over Draco and got into the bed beside him. Harry’s hand, chilly now, wrapped around Draco’s. As Harry’s head snuggled onto his shoulder, Draco felt sleep begin to overtake him.

“Is the butter in Butterbeer made from magical cows?” Harry suddenly asked, his voice unnaturally loud, and jolting Draco from his doze.

“Harry!”

“Ugh, I’m sorry. Fine, you’re right. I do chatter.”

“I like it, most of the time. It’s alright.” Draco’s voice was sleepy. They lay silently for a few minutes before Draco said, “I _was_ right though.”

“You were,” Harry replied, and Draco could hear the smile in his voice.

“What do I get for being right?”

“What do you want?” Harry asked, his interest evident in his whispered reply.

Pulling Harry closer, Draco kissed the spot, just behind his ear that turned Harry into liquid treacle. “I have a few ideas,” he whispered.


End file.
